


fate, fading away

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Introspection, M/M, Needles, Possibly Unrequited Love, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27754597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: Jaemin has spent his entire life dreaming about the moment he’d finally find his other half, and he’s conjured up countless versions of the encounter over the years, but none of his daydreams could have prepared him for his reality.
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas, noren is mentioned exactly once
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45
Collections: Challenge #3 — soulmates





	fate, fading away

**Author's Note:**

> before we get into this i just wanna say thank you to the mods for being amazing as always and a special shoutout to my lovely betas [ado](https://twitter.com/yutacest?s=21) and [clarie](https://twitter.com/toojuns)!! couldn't have done it without y'all <3
> 
> i binged sad music while i wrote this so naturally i got the title from a [song](https://open.spotify.com/track/60iSKGrGazRzICtMjADNSM)

It’s not unusual for people to get their soulmarks covered up.

Jaemin has done his fair share of cover-up work himself―he hit it big back when he masked up and coming rapper Mark Lee’s soulmark to keep delusional fans from inking the same symbol onto their skin in what would have been the world’s most misguided con job. It’s been a few years now, and he’s quickly earning a reputation as the elite artist for celebrity cover-ups. He’s done pieces for the likes of billionaires (Chenle Zhong was one of his favourite clients, actually) and athletes (soccer prodigy Donghyuck Lee led his team to the World Cup last year and came to get his mark covered not even a week later) and everyone in between. It’s notoriously hard to schedule an appointment with him.

Or that’s what everyone says, anyway. Currently, he’s got two hours before his next client, and he’s busy doodling new flash ideas when he hears the front door open, bringing the cold in with it. Renjun greets the newcomer like the dutiful receptionist he is, but something about his tone is off. Jaemin doesn’t pay much attention to it; he can’t hear much of the conversation happening through the open door of the back room, but it doesn’t matter. Renjun’s footsteps grow louder as they approach Jaemin’s station, before stopping altogether in the door jamb.

“You free for a cover-up consultation?” he asks, and to anyone else, it would sound conversational. To Jaemin, it sounds calculated.

“Yeah,” is all he says, looking up from his half-finished drawings. He sets his pencil down, moving to stand, but Renjun doesn’t leave the doorway. Jaemin cocks an eyebrow from across the small space.

“It’s a model. Yukhei Wong, you know him?” That strange lilt hasn’t left Renjun’s voice.

Jaemin nods. Yukhei Wong has walked Paris Fashion Week twice now on top of countless advertisement deals, and he’s one of the few models that have become a household name. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Renjun huffs. “I guess,” he says dismissively. He hesitates, debating, before the next words come out of his mouth. “Be careful, okay?”

Jaemin has no idea what that means, but he nods, anyway. “Always am.” Renjun steps out of the way to let him through the door and gives Jaemin an indecipherable look as he passes.

Jaemin is not prepared for the devastating sight that is Yukhei Wong in the flesh. He’s seen Yukhei in magazines, sure, but photos pale in comparison to the real thing. He’s beautiful, which is obvious because he’s a model―being gorgeous is literally his job. But he also has an aura about him that Jaemin can’t describe; it’s like an uppercut straight to the solar plexus and the world’s most gentle kiss all in one. Something in Jaemin’s chest pulls his heart out of place. Or maybe puts it back where it belongs. He can’t tell.

“Yukhei Wong?” he says as he gets up to the counter. He puts on his best smile, despite the feeling that he’s missing something, or he’s found something. Maybe both, all at once.

“That’s me!” Yukhei says with the brightest grin Jaemin’s ever seen. “I was hoping you could help me out.”

Jaemin nods. “Renjun told me you’re looking for a cover-up?”

“Yeah,” Yukhei confirms, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket. “For my soulmark.”

Yukhei holds his newly exposed arm out in between them, and Jaemin’s usual spiel about the cover-up process is halfway out of his mouth before he realizes what the shape emblazoned on Yukhei’s skin looks like. It’s a chandelier, all soft curves and simple lines, tiny beads dotted across the veins on the inside of Yukhei’s wrist. Suddenly, Renjun’s words make a lot more sense. Jaemin recognizes the feeling that’s been yet unnamed as something akin to heartbreak; it isn’t exactly, because Yukhei can’t break a heart that doesn’t love him. But Jaemin doesn’t think there’s a word for what he’s experiencing, not quite. What do you call a love that’s ended before it’s even begun?

Yukhei just stands there, arm outstretched, for a small eternity as Jaemin processes what he’s looking at. Not in a literal sense, so much as what it all _means._ He isn’t worried about the design―doesn’t need to be. He’s seen it enough.

He has the same fucking thing on his own wrist.

* * *

Jaemin doesn’t fully register the reality of what he’s doing until he’s sitting at his desk staring at a picture of Yukhei’s soulmark in Photoshop two days later. He’s been working on potential designs for hours now, but he can’t seem to get anything done. His work is sloppy, lines wobbly, and everything he sketches looks just a little off-kilter. It isn’t until he looks down at his tablet that he realizes it’s because his hands are shaking.

He drops his pen, leaning back in his chair and willing himself to take deep, steady breaths. It’s a challenge when his chest is tightening around his ribcage like a vice, lungs collapsing on themselves with every strangled gulp of air. His lungs burn with the effort, vision blurring out, and he can’t tell if it’s because of the tears welling up in his eyes or something more visceral.

Yukhei’s words have been replaying in Jaemin’s mind since the moment they left his mouth. He’d been so casual about it, so nonchalant, like his very appearance in Jaemin’s shop wasn’t simultaneously making all his dreams come true and shattering his heart into a million tiny pieces. Jaemin had asked, out of curiosity and a little bit of masochism, maybe, why Yukhei wanted his soulmark covered in the first place. Yukhei had just hummed thoughtfully, tilted his head, and said, “Do you really want to be told who you love?” Jaemin had shrugged noncommittally, and Yukhei just looked at him, studying his reaction. “I don’t. Soulmates are made, not found.”

Jaemin begs to differ. Logically, he knows that not everyone shares his sentiments. Renjun had already been dating Jeno for two months before they discovered they shared a soulmark; they hadn’t intentionally hidden their marks from each other, but neither of them were particularly concerned with it, either. Renjun holds the philosophy that fate knows what it’s doing, whether you’re aware of it or not. In their case, he was right.

In Jaemin’s case, it’s debatable. He hadn’t shown Yukhei his mark, hadn’t even hinted they have a matching set, out of fear of Yukhei’s reaction. Jaemin has spent his entire life dreaming about the moment he’d finally find his other half, and he’s conjured up countless versions of the encounter over the years, but none of his daydreams could have prepared him for his reality. It had never even occurred to him that there was a possibility his soulmate wouldn’t feel the same. Soulmates are supposed to be a perfect match; that’s what Jaemin has always been told. It’s what he’s always believed with his entire heart. But how can they be a perfect match if Yukhei isn't willing to give them a chance to be _anything?_

Jaemin pinches the bridge of his nose, willing the tears away. It doesn’t work, and his desk is dotted with drops of moisture before he can even blink. He can feel his heart fighting its way out through the slats in his ribs and focuses on his breathing again in a halfhearted attempt to rein it back in. His hands are still trembling, but he picks his pen back up, anyway. He needs a distraction, something to tether him to this world; he falls back into the comfort of his art, and it feels like falling into place. It’s not a true remedy, but it helps for now.

It’s not until much later, when Jaemin’s finished drawing up a few potential designs and no longer has the distraction of work to keep his mind occupied, that he actually processes it all. He’d always thought that a part of him was missing, that when he found his soulmate, it would click into place. Now Jaemin sees how wrong he was― _this_ is what loss feels like. The recognition that nothing was ever going to fill that space to begin with, that he’s a puzzle missing an irreplaceable piece.

* * *

The next time Jaemin sees Yukhei, it’s summer. The sun is shining hot and bright in the middle of the sky, framed by fluffy white clouds straight out of a Studio Ghibli movie. Birds are chirping somewhere. Yukhei walks into the shop in a tank top and tight jeans, and he’s every bit as captivating as he was the first time they met. He fits right into the picturesque scenery of the world outside and brings a little bit of that atmosphere in with him. It’s magical.

Or, it should be. It is, in its own way. But not like Jaemin wants it to be. Not when he knows Yukhei is here to rid himself of the one thing Jaemin has held onto like a lifeline ever since he was a kid―not when Yukhei is here to throw their bond away, and Jaemin is letting him.

Yukhei gushes about the options Jaemin shows him; he’d asked for a tiger, crawling up his arm, ready to pounce. It had been easy enough for Jaemin to hide the chandelier’s draping in the stripes, the column in the center of it all framing the face. Yukhei chooses his favourite design, Jaemin puts the stencil on, and then they’ve reached the point of no return.

Jaemin is glad he’s wearing gloves, concealing his own soulmark with the latex, but it doesn’t mask how his hands quiver as he sets up his station. He forces himself to calm down―breathes in for four, out for eight just like Renjun had instructed him when he’d found Jaemin hunched over a half-finished sketch all those weeks ago. Time heals, but Jaemin’s wound is opened fresh the moment the needle meets Yukhei’s wrist. It’s weirdly symbolic, how Jaemin’s heart is pierced with every undulation that breaks Yukhei’s skin, and his breath may be steady, but his heart is bound to burst any moment now.

Years of practice take control of his hands, steadying them, and the lines Jaemin lays over Yukhei’s wrist are smooth and bold. It’s a strange sensation, watching the one thing connecting them gradually fade into the background with every stroke of ink. The mark disappears over time, and Jaemin finds that, at some point, his heart has stopped pounding.

When Yukhei leaves, he gushes about how beautiful his new piece is, promises to be back for more of Jaemin’s work. Jaemin doesn’t want to let himself hope that something might happen between them, but he’s always been too romantic for his own good. He knows he’ll wait for Yukhei’s call.

Renjun knows, too. “Don’t set yourself up to get hurt,” he tells Jaemin, which is his way of saying, _You are definitely setting yourself up to get hurt._

“I won’t,” Jaemin replies, but what he means is, _I know._

He thinks about Yukhei for the rest of the day. Maybe he’s onto something. Maybe it isn’t as simple as flashing a soulmark and declaring you’re meant to be. Maybe nothing is _meant_ to be at all. Maybe it’s all in how you interpret the meaning. Maybe they’re both right.

Maybe soulmates are meant to be made.

* * *

A week later, Jaemin tattoos a chandelier onto his other wrist, right over the pulse point. He holds the matching set, the missing piece he’d been looking for all along.

For now, Jaemin is his own soulmate.

**Author's Note:**

> does yukhei come back for more? do lumin eventually end up together? was yukhei's purpose as jaemin's soulmate ever meant to be permanent or was he just here to open jaemin's eyes to other possibilities? it's up to you! i'd love to hear your thoughts <3
> 
> thank you mods for another wonderful round!! i really missed writing lumin and this au has been on my mind for like a year now so i'm glad i could participate <3
> 
> as always feel free to hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mullethyuck)! i need more lumin nation in my life ^^;


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